Sake
by Sukii-Sama
Summary: Because when people look at Tsunade, what they see is her acomplishment at becoming Hokage. They don't see how many shots of sake it took to get there.


S-S: Oh, long story… And yes, all the shorts are chronologically ordered and connected by alcohol. Enjoy!

And I don't own Naruto.

* * *

Tsunade drinks. A lot.

She would like to say that she can't remember when she started to wake up with an empty liquor bottle in her hand. Stories like that might make her seem more impressive, or more carefree, the kind of person most people would expect to see as Hokage. The truth is, Tsunade can remember the exact day when she started waking up nursing an empty bottle. She can even remember the very first day that she got drunk.

She first got drunk on a May seventh, at eleven fifteen at night. Was it a bad thing for her to keep such a close count?

Sometimes she thinks that yes, her counting shows just how desperate she is to prove that she isn't an alcoholic.

Sometimes she thinks no. Sometimes she's too drunk to care.

* * *

"It's war. You three are going to have to be on the front lines in a week." Hiruzen-sensei's words had been delivered with all the subtlety of a blunt pipe. Tsunade appreciated the bluntness. It made dealing with the aftermath a lot easier than if you were still trying to figure out just what they had meant.

Orochimaru hadn't seemed to care. But then again – as Tsunade forces herself to remember – he didn't care all that much about anything that wasn't some twisted experiment of his.

Jiraiya had vanished, probably off to get drunk somewhere in a back-end bar. In later years, she would learn that he had gone back to his apartment and thrown a dozen kunai at a wall before falling into a dreamless sleep.

Tsunade had walked home in a daze, gotten an old bottle of whiskey – a gift from Jiraiya for her last birthday accompanied with a note to loosen up and date – out of her cupboard.

She had poured herself a glass, drained the cup, and filled it again. Then she had drained that glass. And she just stared at a spot on her wall, pouring and drinking, until the entire bottle was empty. Then she threw the bottle at a wall, marveling in how the glass shattered. She might have passed out then, because she only remembered waking up with a pounding headache.

She had been disgusted that she had done something so… vulgar and low. Wasn't she the student of a Kage as well as the granddaughter of one? Shouldn't she behave properly?

But she reveled in the way that the alcohol had numbed her to the world. Headaches weren't all that bad, she decided. The numbness was worth it.

* * *

After her first battle of the war, when the corpses were still fresh in her mind, Tsunade had disguised herself with a henge and found a small bar in some town in Ame.

Somehow, one drink had led to three, and then ten, and pretty soon she was playing poker with a few men that she had only just met, losing badly and flirting with the bartender as her brought her round after round of drinks.

She left with an empty wallet and a killer headache.

But at least she had managed to forget about the corpses, if even for a little while.

* * *

Tsunade had never liked Ame. It was wet and rainy there, all the time, like the heavens were crying for the dead. And it was too hard to maintain a good drinking habit in such a no-man's-land.

She pitied Jiraiya for having to stay there for three years. She didn't quite know why he had stayed to teach those three orphans. All she knew was that her withdrawal symptoms were bad, and that those kids looked far worse than her liver had ever been.

And during those days, that was saying something.

* * *

"Happy Birthday Hiruzen-sensei!" The three of them chorused merrily, Jiraiya and Tsunade's voices particularly louder, as their teacher stepped into his office. From the surprised look on his face, he had clearly not remember that his birthday was today, or had indeed planned on anything other than a quiet morning.

He stroked his beard and chuckled, "Why so it is my birthday! I didn't know that I told you."

Jiraiya plopped down on their teacher's desk, "You mentioned it once, Oro-teme remembered, and Tsunade-hime decided to throw this party. I'm simply going along with the crowd."

Like hell he was. He had only just gotten back from Ame, barely returning from training those orphans of his. Tsunade could tell that the only thing that he had really wanted to do was try and get as much sleep as possible between now and the next time they were shipped off. But when Orochimaru had mentioned their teacher's upcoming birthday to Tsunade, she had ran off and told Jiraiya, and he had gone all out in planning a party. They had managed to talk him down from strippers, and replaced the keg of beer with a bottle of wine.

"At least _one_ of us should be the responsible one," Orochimaru commented disdainfully.

Tsunade gave him a light punch in the shoulder, "Loosen up!" she laughed, "Happy birthday, sensei," she said, pouring four glasses of wine, "It's not like you're going to get any younger from here on out."

Hiruzen-sensei looked horrified for a moment before bursting out into laughter. They toasted his health, and drank.

Alcohol and good memories became rarer and rarer for Tsunade after that.

* * *

Tsunade always drank on birthdays.

It was her principle. A glass of wine for good luck in old age, a round of drinks with warnings about being a pervert, a shot at exactly 12:01 in the morning every August 2. She even drank on Orochimaru's birthday, though he himself never really celebrated.

But this year, she didn't drink on Nawaki's twelfth birthday, and instead spent the day with her precious little brother. He wanted to be Hokage, was proud of his hitai-ate, and was so very innocent and ignorant to the ways of the world.

In retrospect, Tsunade should have drank.

* * *

"You shouldn't be drinking so much."

She ignored him. Another shot.

"Really, as a medic you should know how bad this is for you."

Whiskey burned her throat as she threw back the liquor.

"That's thirty seven now."

Make that thirty eight.

"Seriously Hime, alcohol poisoning wouldn't suit you."

Why should she care what he thought? Another drink.

"At least you're filtering your system with chakra. Otherwise this might kill you."

This time, she replied, if only to spite him, "I'm not."

This got a start out of him, "What? You always do that when you drink-"

"If I speed up the alcohol removal from my system, it's too damn hard to get drunk."

"So you _want_ to get unbelievably wasted? What are you trying to do by this, get killed?"

She scowled as she had another shot, "I _want_ to forget."

"Yeah, I guessed that much."

She relished in the brief moment of silence to have another couple of drinks, loving the burn, and wishing that the numbness would hurry up and hit her already.

"I still stand by my 'your imminent death' statement. Alcohol poisoning is serious stuff Hime."

"Shut it." She reached for the bottle.

He was faster, grabbing it out of reach before her hand could clasp around the smooth porcelain, "No more Hime. You've had more than enough. Nawaki wouldn't want you to die."

"What do you-!" she hiccupped painfully as the tears returned. Damn it. Talking hurt too much.

She collapsed into tears, sobbing into Jiraiya's protective embrace.

* * *

"You're right."

Those were the first words Katō Dan had ever said to her.

He had walked her home, and they had talked. It hadn't been like with the other boys that she had met, the ones that flirted hopelessly but couldn't tell one end of a kunai from the other. It had been a real talk, the kind that came with wisdom, and agreement as well as debate.

He asked her out a week after. He was shy around her at times, but headstrong. He would always pour her drink first before his, make sure she was seated before he sat, was chivalrous and kind, but didn't find her weak. He thought she was strong. He thought her status as a kunoichi was nothing to be looked down on, and even cussed out one of the ANBU who disagreed.

His presence was stitching her broken heart, slowly perhaps, but he was skilled at sewing.

Tsunade couldn't help but love him. She even drank less, because he had once teasingly scolded her about the dangers of liquor.

* * *

Dan wanted to be Hokage.

He wanted to protect his village.

It was his dream.

Must she say it? Tsunade looked at Dan and sometimes, when the lighting was right or when she had had a few too many shots, she would see Nawaki standing behind him, laughing and telling her in a serious voice that she had found a damn good man.

She had had a single shot of sake to steel herself, slipped the necklace around her lover's neck, and told him that she loved him, that he was right, and that she believed in his dream.

* * *

Tsunade and her two boys, as she thinks of them fondly, had settled down in a booth in the back of a bar somewhere on the edge of Hi no Kuni. The Sanin were finally going to be out of Ame.

It was a celebration, so Tsunade didn't drink as much as she normally did.

She only drank a shot for each person that she had saved, a shot for each person she had killed, a shot for each comrade that she had lost. A shot for how many dead or dying civilians she had encountered. A shot for how many birthdays her little brother had missed. A shot for her enemies honor, or course. And a shot for her and each of her teammates for being so damn awesome-

Forget it.

Tsunade drank like never before, a shot for how many drops of blood had stained her hands.

* * *

The war was over.

Finally.

Orochimaru vanished into his research lab, rarely showing his face around Konoha anymore. There were some nasty rumors going around about what exactly he was doing, but Tsunade and Jiraiya snapped upon the whisperers like mousetraps and the rumors died.

Jiraiya vanished almost within a week of coming back. He packed a bag. Left the village overnight. Said nothing to anyone, except he muttered to his only living student something about writing and a prophesy and coming back.

Tsunade remained at home. She drank. She and Dan together helped to set up a new hospital and a new generation of medics.

She couldn't wait for Jiraiya to get back. Then she could show him how much progress she had made.

She even tucked her sake bottle away in the back of the cupboard.

* * *

"Kampai!" Tsunade raised her glass to an empty apartment.

New Years. New Years was always a stay-at-home holiday. She didn't want to spend it with Dan. She didn't want to spend it with her teammates. She didn't want to spend it with- well actually, outside of Dan and her team, who else was there to spend the holiday with?

No parents. They had been shinobi, her mother never higher than a chunin, and she thought he father might have taken the jonin exam once. It unnerved them, to be direct descendents of the Shodai, and yet so weak. Her strength unnerved them. They disliked that their darling daughter could now heal her own scrapped knees and fevers, could kick butts twice her size and still not need help. They had left Konoha, when they knew war was starting. Tsunade still doesn't know where they went. They don't write. She wished that they did, if only once, so that she knew they were okay. Sometimes, she sees the two of them in some town somewhere, arms linked like always. When she stops to look, it's never them.

No little brother. Nawaki had been hit hardest by the loss of their parents, but had clamped on to Tsunade like she was his new mom. He made her feel like a mom too, always running around and messing up the place, leaving her to tidy and clean. The place had fallen into a mess after he left –_died_– because Tsunade just was too busy to clean or just didn't care enough to. Dan had come over once and they had bravely tackled the living room and kitchen before going out for coffee. The one place that still maintained neatness was Nawaki's old room. Everything was left exactly as if he was still out on a mission. Tsunade sits on his floor sometimes, just sits there and sees her little brother bouncing up and down on his bed and prattling on about how he was going to be Hokage and how he couldn't wait till graduation. Then she stands and leaves, and he vanishes like a puff of smoke, just how he did in reality.

"Happy New Year," Tsunade muttered, throwing back the drink.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Tsunade had asked nervously.

"Uh, you're asking this now? After you've already moved in?" Dan raised an eyebrow and smiled at her, "Don't you dare back out on me."

Tsunade frowned, before his smile because too contagious to resist, "Never going to happen. You're stuck with me," she muttered, before grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. Sometimes she swore that he roped her into kissing him, sometimes she swore that he was just too damn irresistible.

Either way, her boxes of belongings stood in the hallway of Dan's house, ready to be unpacked.

This was, like, _official_ now.

Who knew? Maybe soon Tsunade would have ring on her finger.

* * *

It was the three of them, the old team back together. They were sitting in a booth of some bar in Konoha, underdressed for the occasion.

There was war. They were needed at the front.

Again.

Everyone was.

Dan too.

"I vote we make a promise," Jiraiya said, holding up a glass, "Or a bet, whatever," he cast a sly look at Tsunade as he did so.

Tsunade snorted and refilled her sake cup, "I always loose bets. Call it a promise. That way I can keep it."

"Fine, fine," Jiraiya waved it off, "Let's promise that we all make it back. All three of us. We make it back, and when we come back, we sit here, at this booth, and have another round of drinks."

The words fell heavy on the three of them. People never really spoke about after battles. It was the unspoken rule of shinobi. You never talked about coming back from battle, never said 'ittarashai', never said 'see you later'. If you did, you might jinx it, and no ninja could bear having that thought sitting on their head.

Orochimaru broke the silence, raising his glass into the air to join Jiraiya's, "Why not." he commented, almost silently.

"Deal." Tsunade raised her glass as well, "See you two here, after the fight."

And they drank to seal that promise.

* * *

"Alcohol? It makes it all better, I swear." Tsunade wasn't joking, was being dead serious as she reached over the table to pour Jiraiya a glass of sake.

The plain white letter was clutched in his hand, his hand was shaking, and the crumpled up letters were blurred with the motion. "Thanks Hime," he said, resorting to his old nickname for her. He grabbed the cup and drained it. "I just…"

"Yeah," Tsunade said, sipping her own drink and then watching as the sake blurred her reflection, "I know."

"I just never thought that they would die," Jiraiya muttered, "They were good kids, full of life. They had these really amazing dreams, and were so damn talented. Did I ever tell you about the time when Konan started throwing paper shuriken at Yahiko every time he disagreed with her?"

Yes, he has. Many times this evening. The same with every other story about those three orphans. But Tsunade says no anyways, and listens to him talk and rant and laugh and cry, because she knows that he needs to talk to someone.

* * *

"Dan gonna be fighting too?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Well this'll be a large battle I guess, so they'll need every man available. Where's he stationed?"

"He'll be on my team, said some nonsense about always protecting me."

"So are you two an official item now?"

"Well- I- I guess."

"You'll make a good wife Hime. Too bad I was never good enough."

And with that, Jiraiya walked out of the bar, leaving a confused Tsunade behind to nurse an empty bottle and hope to whatever God that was out there that Jiraiya hadn't actually fallen for her.

* * *

Tsunade had brought a small flask of sake with her to battle. She had Dan had shared it over a tiny fire during their watch. It looked like it was going to rain.

"We'll probably be fighting tomorrow," Tsunade took another sip of alcohol, remembering to filter her system with medical ninjutsu so that she wouldn't have a hangover tomorrow.

"Yup," Dan said, staring at the dying embers. The firelight made his hair look orange and his face illuminated.

"After this war is over… what'll happen to us?" Tsunade hated to ask it, but it had to be asked.

Dan's mouth opened and closed, but he didn't have an answer.

* * *

"You shouldn't be drinking so much."

Ignore him. Another shot.

"Seriously Hime, this is bad."

More sake. Another shot.

"I remind you again about alcohol poising. _Don't_."

More sake. Ignore him.

"You've had fifty three drinks. Time to stop."

Make that fifty four.

"I know you're not filtering your system in any way."

So what. She didn't care. More liquor.

"Alcohol poisoning, Hime. You have stop drinking."

More sake, more drinks. Her headache would kill the next morning, she knew. If she didn't drink herself to death before the headache came. Actually, she thought as she had another glass, that wasn't a bad idea.

"This isn't good for you. You're going to kill yourself like this."

Yeah, that was kind of the idea. Another shot.

"You don't care, do you?"

This time the voice of reason was sadder, more resigned. Good. Then he might shut up.

"Alcohol doesn't solve anything."

Yes. Yes it would. It would make her forget, for even the shortest amount of time, about the blood on her hands. None of that blood was for saving people anymore. Blood had killed Dan. Maybe she would kill her own blood, overload it with alcohol so that it would finally give in to her heart and stop working as well.

"If I have to knock you out Hime, I will."

Empty threat. She knew him well enough.

"I can't stand this. I can't stand looking at you try and do yourself in because you're so damn desperate to forget."

_He_ couldn't stand this? Why the hell did he think _she_ was drinking the first place!?

"Go home."

Home? To an empty apartment? To a place that she used to share with Dan? Or did he mean to the old apartment that she used to share with Nawaki? She still had both, either could technically be called home. Neither felt like it. Home was supposed to be with people.

"I'm sending you back to Konoha. You'll leave tomorrow and don't you dare drink anything when I'm not there."

Why the hell hadn't he sent Dan home instead? Another shot.

"I said don't drink."

Didn't care.

"My threat to knock you out still stands."

She laughed, some hollow sound that just didn't fit. She reached for the bottle.

* * *

Apparently it hadn't been that empty of a threat because when Tsunade woke up it was in her old apartment in Konoha. The one she had shared with Nawaki. The light that poured in from her window burned her eyes and made her head ache. Her head pounded against her skull and she felt sick as hell.

Sick as hell. But still, regretfully, alive.

And now she had this hangover to deal with. She managed to stand and go over to the kitchen. Apparently Jiraiya had been serious about his threat, because all the bottles of sake that she kept in the cupboards was gone, the same with the stuff that she kept in an empty bookshelf in the living room.

But he hadn't known about her stash under her mattress because that sake was still there.

And she drank.

Then she drank some more.

Then she threw the empty bottles against the wall, leaving the shards everywhere.

This wasn't that bad a method, actually.

Drinking till the hangover went away.

* * *

Jiraiya and Orochimaru were back, she knew that. They had both gone to that bar, fulfilling the promise that they had made. They had made it back from the war.

Tsunade didn't join them.

She stayed at home and drank some more. Alone now, because she couldn't go to that bar and join them.

She hadn't fulfilled her promise. They had made it back, so they could go and drink together.

Tsunade hadn't made it back. Not really.

She was still on that battlefield, holding her bloodied hands to Dan's chest and trying desperately to save the man she loved.

* * *

"I'll stop him, I promise Hime."

The next time Tsunade had seen Jiraiya, it had been on an operation table. He had been covered with blood, clutching a gaping chest wound. That was also the last time Tsunade saw him cry.

They were broken, officially now.

Orochimaru gone.

Jiraiya drowning in regret.

Tsunade as good as dead.

When she realized just how broken the three of them were, she packed a bag and drank till she was buzzed enough to do what she needed to do.

* * *

"You know Konoha doesn't take too kindly to deserters."

"I don't care."

"Just need to leave, huh?"

"Something like that."

"You know what? Hiruzen-sensei'll probably act like you're just out on a mission. And I doubt that brat Minato will care enough to write you off as a nuke-nin."

"…Thanks."

"Hey, I did nothing."

"So you're leaving too, huh?"

"… Books don't write themselves. 'Tale of Gutsy Ninja' is gonna have to get published before I can stand to be back in Konoha."

"Why don't you write a book about a woman who overcomes her crippling fear of blood through some sickeningly cute feat like love or something? That might sell well."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Hime. Besides, if I did write a book about you, you would probably end up being written as my wife or something. Bet you'd hate that."

"I'd probably break both your arms."

"Yup, defiantly never writing it."

"Good choice."

"Here Hime, I need to leave, you need to leave. That last bottle's on me."

"Another good choice. Thanks for the drink. I'll… see you later."

"And next time you want to leave Konoha, don't get drunk first. Just come see me, I'll kick you out of the town if I have to."

"Funny. My sides are splitting."

* * *

"Sorry kid," Tsunade laughed dryly and threw back the glass, "I don't teach."

"I already know the basics, you wouldn't have to teach me that."

"No deal."

"Why not? It's not like there's anyone else that can teach me what I need to know."

"_Duh_."

"What do you have to lose?"

_You_, Tsunade thought. Dan's precious niece. How could she visit his grave and tell him that she had let his sister's darling daughter and only living relative die? She couldn't bear to get attached again, couldn't stand to lose someone else.

"Sorry kid, walk away and find someone else."

"No."

Tsunade twitched, the brat was stubborn. Too stubborn. "Fine. You can train under me for one week. If you're not up to it, then you leave, no whining and no fussing."

"Deal."

And when the two of them left the bar, Tsunade took the bottle with her, hoping that Shizune would give up.

* * *

A week passed.

Then a month.

Years went by.

Tsunade lived, drank, and gambled.

Shizune worried, fused, and learned.

And god help her, Tsunade was getting attached to the kid. Shizune was like a sponge, soaking up knowledge, while still being unfortunately soft. She had yet to gain the temper and violent tendencies of Tsunade, and remained a kind hearted soul through and through. Tsunade should have considered this a weakness, but on Shizune she did not mind it.

"Tsunade-sama," Shizune intoned nervously, "The stakes are too high!"

Tsunade waved her hand, "Relax," she dropped her suitcase down on the table and snapped open the clasps. Addressing the rest of the poker table, she grinned, "Well gentlemen, what's the anti?"

"Five thousand yen," the man at the head of the table smirked, "Can you afford it, Sucker?"

Damn, seemed her nickname had spread here too. Tsunade kind of liked it. Loosing was a constant in her life, something she knew would always happen. She always lost, there was nothing more to it. Simple, easy, predictable. She disliked sudden change. A constant was good. But still, as nicknames went… "Feast your eyes, boys," she opened the top of the case, letting her opponents fully appreciate just how much money was lined up inside the black case.

She tossed a stack of bills onto the center of the table and signaled for a waiter. She wanted to be thoroughly drunk when she started losing.

* * *

Tsunade looked up over her bottle of sake, "The Kyuubi?"

"Yeah." Shizune glanced down at her seltzer water, her eyes blurring with tears that threatened to spill.

"I see. How many dead?"

"I'm unsure. Minato-sama died sealing the beast. K-Kushina too."

"Your friend? The redhead?"

"Uh-huh."

"I'm sorry. Do you want to return to Konoha for the funerals? I'll wait here, if you want to come back."

"No, I don't think that I could go. Mikoto and Yoshino will be there, and I don't think that I could face the two of them without Kushina being there as well."

"You should try and stay in touch."

"You never did."

"Yeah, and see where that got me."

"… I'll be back in less than a week, will you be fine without me?"

"I'm one of the Sanin, kid. I can manage without you for a week."

"Good."

"…So what happened to the Kyuubi?"

"It's an official secret for anyone of the next generation, but the older generation knows. The beast was sealed inside Kushina and Minato-sama's son, Uzumaki Naruto."

"Uzumaki? Thought his last name would have been Namikaze."

"Namikaze would get him assassinated before his first birthday. Jiraiya-sama is apparently trying to keep that secret under wraps already."

"… Well at least the kid gets to keep one of his parent's names."

* * *

Tsunade strolled down the street, her half-empty sake bottle in hand, taking large gulps as she walked. She would be tipsy by the time she got back to the hotel, but that was fine. Shizune was back from her trip to Konoha, scurrying behind the older woman with a nervous look on her face. Tsunade glanced back at Shizune and snorted, "Lighten up kid. People die, that's life."

"I know, I know that." Shizune muttered.

"By the way…"

"Yes?"

"That- that is Kushina's right?"

"Oh no, not really. Me and Mikoto found him after the funeral."

"And you found it necessary to bring the bloody pig back with us?"

"… His name is Tonton."

"… Hell no."

* * *

Years later, Tsunade once again found herself glancing up from her sake to the saddened face of Shizune. It was a different bar, in a different town, in a different country, but news traveled fast, especially news of this sort, and Tsunade already knew what it was that her student was going to ask her.

"Another return trip to Konoha, huh?"

"Yes."

"Funeral?"

"Mikoto."

"I heard what happened to the Uchiha."

"So did I."

"Doesn't seem right."

"What do you mean by that?"

"… Just doesn't make all that much sense. Kids don't snap like that, the mind rarely is that psychotic. Do you know anything else?"

"As much as you do."

"I see... How long will you be, do you think?"

"A week, probably more. I want to spend some time with Yoshino, because honestly, the way things are going, the next funeral I go to might be hers."

And right before Tsunade's eyes, her own preciously innocent Shizune had grown up and suddenly become accustomed to the evils of the world. For some strange and inexplicable reason, she felt very alone and very, very sad. Where was Dan's tiny little niece that ran up to her to ask for a hug? Where was the young and eager student that watched everything she did with wide eyes? Where had they gone?

She glanced down at the sake.

Oh, that's right.

* * *

Tsunade sat down on the worn out sofa of some back end salon. The place smelled heavily of tobacco smoke and there was the familiar chink of pachinko machines coming from the next room over. The people here were all civilians, save for the two ninja that were paid as bodyguards. From behind small silk screen, rich men in suits discussed business and poker, long streams of smoke curling up of the top of their screen silhouettes.

The every nervous Shizune sat down next to her, holding an equally nervous Tonton in her lap. The young woman had glared at the first employee to give the pig a second glance, allowing the pet to stay in the bar.

Snapping her fingers in an impatient signal to be served, Tsunade settled down and pulled out a worn letter, "Here," she handed it to Shizune.

Shizune grasped the paper and read it over twice, "Orochimaru has been spotted?!" she gasped and clutched the paper in her shaking fingers, "What did he want in Konoha? Why would he come back?"

"Dunno," Tsunade shrugged and pried the letter out of Shizune's hands, "But if you want my guess… he came for the Uchiha. That brat, Sasucakes, or something."

"Will you go back?"

"No point. If Orochimaru has been spotted, then he's long gone."

"But Jiraiya-sama's looking for you and-"

"His letter found me. He didn't. We'll leave town in the morning."

"Why are you avoiding him? This is serious!"

"… You know why."

Tsunade was a coward. She couldn't face the ghosts of her past. If she went to Konoha, she might never leave.

* * *

"Second letter that's found you. Next time Jiraiya-sama will just show up himself."

"No."

"He was your teacher."

"I can't go back."

"Tsunade-sama…"

"I'm not like you. I hate funerals. I hate to see the bodies. I will not see my old teacher lying on a slab while some ninjas cover his body with stupid flowers. I can't bear to face Jiraiya or anyone from Konoha."

"All right. So long as you don't regret it."

"I won't. Now pass the damn bottle back so I can keep that promise."

* * *

The three of them had used to be a team.

Tsunade, Jiraiya, Orochimaru.

Three names that went together.

They had fit.

Now, they were little more than memories, broken shards of people that didn't fit together with anyone or anything anymore, their puzzle permanently skewed.

It had been so many years since they had seen each other, and her teammate had changed. She had no trouble recognizing him, though, no trouble at all. Maybe his face was too distinctive, his voice too hard to miss. Maybe it was even the familiar chakra signature that her finely honed senses picked up on.

Or maybe she recognized him because he still looked like that shy boy that she met all those years ago, the one that his behind Hiruzen-sensei's back.

He was still a child, still holding onto that shed snake's skin, fascinated by the dead and impossible object and dreaming of something just as insubstantial.

* * *

Tsunade had to laugh at the boy. There was no doubting who his parentage was, that was for sure. Looking at him was like looking at a miniature Minato. And Kushina was practically screaming out at her though his voice. The brat was determined, she would give him that, even if he was stupid as hell. Seriously, Hokage?

A fool's position.

It was a worthless position, one only for the reckless dreamer.

Nothing worthy of desire.

Dan.

Nawaki.

Naruto.

All fools.

Damn it all.

How could she hate the fox brat now?

* * *

Tsunade poured herself her first cup of sake as Hokage.

She had already yelled at the elders, insulted a couple of high-ranking jonin, terrified the third's grandson, and smashed part of the ANBU headquarters. And now she was installing a false back on her bottom desk drawer to her right because she knew that Shizune would be in here to hunt out the liquor as soon as she left.

All in all, a good first day.

She absentmindedly touched the spot on her chest where a certain stone necklace should have rested.

Should have, because it was now hanging from Naruto's neck. This time, she would ensure that it was a gift, not a noose.

"_One last time Naruto, just this one last time. I'll bet on you."_


End file.
